


leaning to listen

by hanniebunny



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, Bondage, Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Cock Cages, Cute Han Jisung | Han, Dom Lee Minho | Lee Know, Dom/sub, Humiliation, I mean they don’t do it but that’s implied bahah, It’s so soft I swear, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Punishment, Sub Han Jisung | Han, Sungie came without permission :(, Top Lee Minho | Lee Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27913792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanniebunny/pseuds/hanniebunny
Summary: “What was that, Sungie?” Minho asked, his voice level but with an edge of sternness that made Jisung’s stomach flip over.“I— it—” Jisung stammered, “It was an accident, I promise. ‘m sorry, baby.”“For?” Minho pressed. “You’re already in trouble. I don’t think you want to make your punishment even worse.”*Or, Jisung breaks a rule and Minho takes it upon himself to give him a lesson in self-control.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 12
Kudos: 190





	leaning to listen

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hi! im new to writing in this fandom and smut in general but minsung has a special place in my heart so I tried my hand at this :) im sorry for any mistakes bc I didn’t have a beta for this smsjjdjd

The instant it happened, Jisung knew he was in trouble.

The worst part was, it wasn’t even satisfying. Minho had held him down tight on his thigh so he couldn’t grind himself through it; there was no race to the finish line, no triumphant culmination. His cock just pulsed twice, and suddenly his come was dribbling onto Minho’s jeans. It was a physiological reaction that Jisung couldn’t stop — like an underwhelming, soggy sneeze.

Then Minho sighed, and Jisung realized that his weak orgasm wasn’t the worst part at all. It wasn’t even close.

“What was that, Sungie?” Minho asked, his voice level but with an edge of sternness that made Jisung’s stomach flip over.

“I— it—” Jisung stammered, laying his hands on Minho’s chest desperately, “It was an accident, I promise. ‘m sorry, baby.”

“For?” Minho pressed. “You’re already in trouble. I don’t think you want to make your punishment worse.”

Jisung’s cheeks were burning. Minho was going to make him say it. God, the _shame_ , and what it was doing to him. He could feel the arousal starting again already, dick twitching slightly in interest.

“I came,” he said, though obviously Minho already knew that.

“Uh huh.” The older man hadn’t moved; Jisung was still hanging on to his hips, but Minho wasn’t touching him at all anymore. “Did I give you permission to come?”

Jisung shook his head mutely. Minho knew that already, too.

“That’s what I thought,” he shook his head, the disappointment in his tone going straight to Jisung’s cock. He pulled away with a click of his tongue, and Jisung regretted his mistake even more. They’d barely gotten started, Minho didn’t even have his shirt off. “You know what happens now,” he added, when Jisung didn’t move away from the wall. “Go get it, baby.”

He thought about arguing — _You got me so worked up on the couch_ , he could say, or _It’s been a week since we played, I forgot the rules_ , but ultimately, he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. Minho was strict anytime of day, but especially when he had that look in his eyes. Jisung had ruined their night, and now he had to take his punishment.

Jisung pushed himself off the wall with a quiet huff and stomped his way to the dresser. In the top drawer, tucked behind their balled-up socks, was a velvet bag, crisp and new. It jingled gently when Jisung picked it up and carried it across their bedroom.

Minho took it when Jisung offered, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “Hands behind your back,” he instructed him, setting the bag aside. “Spread your legs a bit.”

Jisung promptly obeyed, and Minho pulled his pants down the rest of the way. He lifted one foot, and then the other, and rolled his socks and underwear off as well. The shirt came next. Jisung shivered with the chill and thrill of being abruptly naked in front of him. Minho tossed his clothes at the hamper, then picked up the bag again and opened it. The device inside was shiny, glinting in his hands. Jisung swallowed hard, watching the deft fingers that had been touching him so perfectly only a few minutes ago twist apart the padlock and detach the rings.

He knew it was coming, but still, he couldn’t bite back a gasp when Minho took hold of his balls. In the split second between the warm touch of Minho’s fingers and the cold steel of the ring, Jisung felt a flame of hope flare up, only to be doused immediately. Working quickly and dispassionately, Minho guided Jisung’s balls through the ring one at a time while the younger boy tried not to squirm. The cage — a series of metal loops that looked a little like a wilted slinky — came next. Its curve forced his cock down, emasculating and unrelenting and _embarrassing_.

Minho glanced up, obviously checking in before he locked everything down. Jisung nodded, “It’s good,” before the elder could ask.

“Not too good, I hope,” Minho smiled wryly, “This is a punishment, it’s not supposed to be good.”

“I know, Hyung,” Jisung straightened his back quickly. “It’s not good.”

But he was lying; of course it would be good, he loved it when Minho made him suffer.

The older boy’s lips quirked up; they understood each other perfectly. “And why not?”

Minho was making him say it — again. “Because I wasn’t a good boy,” Jisung mumbled, red-faced and ashamed.

“No, you weren’t,” Minho agreed, no joke in his tone now. He lined up the pins and secured the cage. “You couldn’t control yourself, so now I have to do it for you.”

The snick of the lock sliding home made it all too real. Jisung’s mouth went dry. “I know. I deserve it.” he managed.

“Good,” Minho cooed. He leaned back and held out the key for the cage. “Do me a favor and put that in the silverware drawer.”

From his tone, he could have been asking Jisung to turn on the TV. The younger boy took the key unthinkingly, but then he hesitated, looking down at his cock brashly.

“Don’t be a brat now, Jisung. If you use it, I’ll lock you up for an entire week.” Minho added, his voice dropping ominously.

Jisung suppressed a whine and turned away. The cage clinked with his movement, but he hardly noticed the sound. The sensation of the metal weighing him down as he tried to walk normally through their house consumed all of his focus. It was like his cock had been replaced by a swirling vortex, pulling every one of his thoughts in its direction. He felt sensitive and hard and god, he wanted to come so bad.

The cage was new. They’d bought it a couple of months ago, and Jisung had only worn it twice so far — once to make sure the measurements were right, and once for a long, slow tease that had ended with some of the best sex of his life. He’d imagined wearing it more — he’d even agreed that it would be used for punishment — but he hadn’t thought that it would happen so soon. In fact, he’d kind of been hoping that Minho would ask him to wear it in public. Under his clothes, it would be a secret they shared, and a reminder of who Jisung belonged to.

But instead, this happened. Jisung tried to console himself, thinking about last time’s spectacular conclusion, but the thought of sex was almost too much to bear. He quickly tossed the key into the drawer beside the cutlery and headed back to the bedroom.

When he returned, he saw that Minho had turned off the overhead light, leaving only the bedside lamp on, lit at its lowest setting. He was still seated at the end of the bed, but he was looking at his phone now. His jeans were still open, and Jisung narrowed his gaze onto his crotch. Minho’s dick had softened to just a lump under his cotton underwear, barely more pronounced than usual.

Jisung stood in the doorway somewhat awkwardly, waiting to be acknowledged. Minho didn’t show any sign of realizing he was there, but after a moment, he shifted slightly, letting his legs fall open. Then he rocked his hips, just enough to make the mattress creak. His hand slid along his thigh, past his crotch and up to his nipples, now hardening under his thin t-shirt. His eyes still on his phone, Minho caressed one pec and then the other, before drifting back down.

Jisung couldn’t look away. The older man’s cock was slowly filling again, but Minho didn’t touch it, not even once — proving that he was much better at self-control than Jisung ever would be.

After several long minutes, he began to wonder what Minho was looking at. He’d taken some good pics the last time he’d marked Jisung with the flogger, maybe that was it? Or porn; everybody liked porn. Jisung was desperately curious. He shuffled his feet, antsy to move.

Minho looked up at the sound of the padlock rattling. He smiled — more at Jisung’s dick than at him — and reached over to set his phone on the dresser. He spread his legs wider, and lowered his pants about halfway down his thighs. Just enough to free his cock, which was half-hard by now. With his eyes on Jisung again, he gave himself a loose, one-handed stroke and sighed pleasurably.

Jisung’s dick twitched, collided with the walls of its cage, and retreated. He bit back a whimper, loosing himself in the feeling of being under his Hyung’s control.

Minho’s smile widened, and Jisung realized that Minho had been stalling. He’d waited long enough that Jisung felt like he could get hard again, were it not for the cage— and that was exactly Minho’s point.

“Come here,” He grinned, quietly but imperiously. “Let me kiss you.”

Jisung moved — it was more like being pulled into Minho’s orbit rather than stepping forward. Minho’s lips, when they found his, were wet and strong and impossible to deny. Jisung kissed him fully, slowly, like he had all the time in the world to savor it. The younger moaned into his mouth, feeling like he was melting inside. Nobody could kiss like his boyfriend.

Then he threaded his fingers into Jisung’s hair and pulled, reminding him that Minho wasn’t just his boyfriend. He was his Dom, and he was still very disappointed in him right now.

“On your knees,” the older boy murmured against his lips. “Clean up your mess.”

Jisung sank down at once, discovering a plush folded towel waiting for him. Minho must have put it there while Jisung was in the kitchen. A thrill rippled through him — first, at the knowledge that Minho was taking care of him, watching out for his knees on the hardwood floor, and second, at the implication that he was going to be here a while.

Kneeling, the cock cage was even more uncomfortable. It felt like his balls were being squeezed through a garden hose. But he did it anyway, settling between Minho’s toned thighs and trying his best to focus on his orders. In the dim light, it was a challenge to find the spot where he’d come. Minho’s jeans were mostly dry, but after a second’s probing, he discovered a flaky spot on his left thigh that tasted bitter-bright and salty. He recoiled unintentionally and shuddered.

“You know I hate repeating myself.” Minho warned him, raising a brow.

Jisung swallowed down the sour taste and forced himself to continue, the denim growing softer from his soft sucking. His face was hot with humiliation, and he cursed his at dick. His dick, stuck in its rattling cage, cursed back.

Minho hummed, sounding completely relaxed while Jisung worked, but his hand had enough force to keep him in place. Meanwhile, his erection bobbed just inches away, taunting Jisung with its dense, musky scent — so much more appealing than what he was currently licking.

Frustrated, he nudged it with his chin a few times, and Minho’s grip tightened. “I’ll tell you when it’s time to touch my dick, Jisung.” he growled. Jisung shivered with want, even as the cage reminded him of its futility.

After several long minutes, he pulled Jisung back and ran a hand along the area he’d been bathing with his tongue. Minho made a satisfied hum and let his fingers slide further up until he was gripping the base of his cock. Without meaning to, Jisung licked his lips and squirmed, the padlock jingling between his legs.

“Oh, you want that, do you?” Minho asked. He stroked a little harder with his left hand, “You wanna suck me off?”

Jisung nodded vehemently. The sooner he could get Minho off, the sooner he could be free. He tried to lean in again, but Minho didn’t let him move.

“I don’t think so,” he said, and he shifted. Jisung felt the towel moving under his knees, and then—

Jisung yelped, head whipping down to watch as Minho’s bare foot suddenly appeared on his thigh. Jisung hadn’t noticed that Minho had taken his socks off, but he clearly had, because his foot was ice cold. Jisung stayed perfectly still while it inched inward, little by little, until it was resting fully on top of his bound cock. He could almost feel the pressure through the tiny gaps between the bars.

Minho pressed down harder. Jisung flinched. The discomfort, the shame, and the little bit of pain was turning him on like crazy, the arousal building everywhere except his cock. And when Minho wiggled his frozen toes in Jisung’s pubic hair, Jisung jerked forward, so startled at feeling something that for one wild second he’d thought he’d come again.

Minho watched him, smiling that wicked smile, and kept doing it. Jisung squirmed once more.

“That’s not gonna do you any good,”he smiled, “but keep it up. It’s fun to watch.”

Minho did seem to be having fun: his erection was straining upwards. Sweat was glinting against his forehead and on the maddeningly small part of his chest that his V-neck t-shirt revealed. Even his grip on Jisung’s hair had loosened.

Jisung decided to take advantage of this, and did something very reckless. He leaned in, too fast for Minho to stop him, and licked the tip of his cock.

Minho yanked him back _hard_ — hard enough to hurt — barely a second after he made contact. “What did I just say, Jisung?”

Jisung sucked Minho’s taste off his tongue and swallowed. “I don’t know, Hyung,” he said, eyes locked on Minho’s face. “I wasn’t listening.”

Minho shoved Jisung away and stood up, leaving Jisung on his knees. Jisung looked up — Minho was a few inches taller than him already; but from down here, he looked like a giant. Or, given the faint halo of light behind him, like one of those terrifying angels from the Bible.

Jisung’s heart was racing, his adrenaline up. He held his breath while he waited for what Minho would do to him next.

“Fine,” Minho said, and his voice was gratifyingly husky. He pulled his pants down further, moving awkwardly with one hand still in Jisung’s hair. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a brief moment — just breathing in Minho’s familiar smell was enough to make him drool. “Fine,” said Minho again. “You want it, you got it. But you’re not gonna enjoy it.”

It was another lie they’d both agreed to; Minho knew as well as Jisung did how much he loved sucking cock.

“Of fucking _course_ I’ll enjoy it—“ Jisung started to say, but before he could get half a word out, his lips were splitting with the rough, unlubricated slide of Minho’s dick into his mouth.

“There,” Minho said, halfway in already. “Happy now?”

Jisung gagged, but he didn’t back down. He held Minho’s gaze and tried to speak with his eyes.

 _Come on_ , he tried, _Let me have it._

Minho must have gotten the message clear enough, because he kept pushing — he was a big guy, but Jisung prided himself on taking it all, and he’d never been known to take things slow. Still, Minho let him have a quiet, blissful moment once his nose was buried in the thick curls that Minho kept trimmed so neatly just for this reason. He breathed in, eyes closed, and Minho breathed with him.

And then he started to move.

He pulled out and thrust in again, so slowly that it was almost worse than if he’d just gone for it. It felt like eons before Minho shoved in a little harder, a little faster. His grip on Jisung’s hair was implacable, so Jisung couldn’t change the pace, couldn’t move at all, couldn’t do anything except kneel there and take it, letting Minho use him.

Jisung loved it, he loved Minho, he loved making Minho happy— but the longer it went on, the more he found that Minho was right: he wasn’t enjoying it. 

Normally, Minho’s cock down his throat would be enough to get him hard, and fast. But every time his body so much as thought about getting aroused, the cage would remind him that he couldn’t, that he wasn’t in control, that he hadn’t earned that yet. Only Minho could get him out of this, he thought, while Minho fucked his face. If he could make Minho come, Minho would let him out, and then he’d have the best goddamned orgasm on the planet. Minho would be sweet to him, tell him he was good, and put the cage away.

Jisung decided to be reckless again, to try to make that happen sooner rather than later. So the next time Minho thrust in, Jisung wiggled his tongue for the few seconds it took for his mouth to fill.

Minho gasped — one tiny sign that he was losing control — then he pulled out completely. The way he was clutching the base of his cock sent a frisson of desire through Jisung; he ached to give Minho the little bit of sweetness — a gentle suck, a lick in just the right place — that he needed to push him over the edge.

But Minho, of course, would have none of that. Breathing hard, he held Jisung firmly and looked down with eyes that flashed dangerously.

“You just don’t learn, do you?” he hissed.

Jisung licked his lips, which were raw but saturated with Minho’s taste. “Nope.”

Minho stared at him another second, then turned away and pulled off his shirt. His jeans followed, and Jisung had to hold back a moan as he watched his Hyung strip. Jisung had seen it a hundred times, but his breath still caught in his throat; Minho was just so beautiful. His skin seemed to glow in the yellow light of their bedroom, the hard lines of his body thrown into sharp relief. And when he bent over? 

_God._

Jisung only realized Minho was saying something when he sighed and straightened up. “You stopped listening again, Kitty.” he hummed, rolling his eyes. Jisung stared at Minho’s still-shiny, still-mostly-hard cock and didn’t deny it. “Clearly, you’re distracted,” he concluded. “I can fix that.”

It caused Jisung near-physical pain to watch his husband put pants on. Minho’s dick tented the loose plaid fabric of his pyjama bottoms, but it worked; Jisung raised his eyes to find an amused but skeptical expression on Minho’s face.

“Up,” he instructed. “On the bed, on your side, facing away from me.”

Jisung obeyed without question, feeling a little like he was in a dream. Even the uncomfortable squeeze of his cock between his thighs seemed distant as he lay down with his back to Minho.

He heard Minho moving behind him, the bottom dresser drawer closing. Then there was a dip in the mattress. Jisung half-turned, like he’d just woken up and he wanted a kiss, but Minho denied him, lifting Jisung’s right arm instead.

“What—?” Jisung said, as the rope closed around his wrist.

“If you’d been listening, you would know what was happening,” Minho said, attaching the rope to the steel loop in their headboard. “You want me to go over it again?”

Jisung watched him secure the rope, tightening it until he was satisfied and moving onto the next section. “No,” he decided after a moment. “I trust you.”

Minho hummed, pleased, and kept working. When both hands were tied over Jisung’s head, he asked, “Good?”

Jisung nodded, so Minho ducked down and kissed him. It was sweet at first, and shallow, but that only lasted a moment; even Minho had his limits. Soon his tongue had worked its way inside, hot and demanding, possessive. Jisung tried to give back as good as he got, and when he felt the press of Minho’s erection against his thigh, he arched up to give Minho some friction.

Minho grunted and pulled away, bracing himself above Jisung with one arm. His mouth travelled down to Jisung’s earlobe and neck, while his free hand roved over Jisung’s naked body.

Minho hadn’t touched him — _really_ touched him — since Jisung came, but he touched him now. His fingers seemed to want to go everywhere, from his cheek to his nipples, his hips to his ass. Every inch of Jisung’s skin seemed to come alive — the hair on his arms and neck stood up, his nipples grew hard as diamonds. It was like his body was compensating for his cock being out of commission, and it was starting to hurt.

He arched his back again and yanked at the ropes, wanting more. Minho huffed out a laugh and pushed himself up. “I love you like this,” he said. “So desperate for it, huh, baby?”

Jisung nodded. Minho sat back on his knees. If Jisung looked for it — and he was definitely looking — he could see the edge of his cock through the open fly of his sleep pants.

Minho noticed and ran a hand idly over his crotch. “You still think this is about making me come, don’t you.” he said.

“Well, yeah, what else—?” Jisung started to ask, but his question ended with a loud gasp when Minho bent over and pulled his cock, cage and all, into his mouth.

The sensation was strange — wet and hot and arousing, but maddening at the same time. He knew that he would love it if he were hard, he knew that he wanted to get hard, and he knew that he never would, not so long as the lock stayed on. He thrust up fruitlessly, only for Minho to grasp his hips.

“Hold still,” he said firmly. He stayed close enough that Jisung could feel the air leaving his mouth when he added, “Be good.”

Jisung nodded blindly and licked the sweat off his lips. But he’d barely had time to breathe before Minho caught him off-guard again.

He cried out — he couldn’t help it — when Minho’s tongue wedged itself between the bars of the cage. He swore he could feel each taste bud, every bump and groove. His cock kept trying to harden, and if he thought he’d been uncomfortable before, he’d been extraordinarily naïve. This was _agony_ , and when Minho’s tongue explored the gaps at the end of the cage, stroking the soft tip again and again, Jisung squeezed the ropes so hard his hands hurt.

“Fuck,” he said to the ceiling. “Fuck, Hyung— please.”

Minho pulled off his cock and rubbed a soothing hand low on Jisung’s belly. “Finally,” he said. “Took you long enough.”

“What? I don’t—” Jisung gasped, bewildered. “Hyung?”

Minho was moving again and didn’t answer. With a nudge, he rolled Jisung onto his side and slotted in behind him. His cock was fire-hot against Jisung’s ass, the fabric between them moist and clinging.

“Come on, baby,” Minho said. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m after.”

Minho’s words were slurred into the back of Jisung’s neck, sending wave after wave of chills down his spine. Minho’s hand slid from Jisung’s stomach to the lock on his cage — his fingers lifted it, then let it fall, then lifted it, and let it fall, until Jisung could feel the clink of its metal resonating throughout his entire body.

“You want out?” Minho asked him, his teeth nipping at Jisung’s earlobe. “You gotta beg me for it.”

Jisung groaned, but it quickly turned into a whine when Minho’s hand travelled up and tweaked his nipple, just hard enough to hurt.

“Oh, you _son of a bitch_ ,” Jisung sighed.

He really should have seen this coming. Begging was anathema to Jisung — his pride rejected it outright. This was his real punishment; there was no more effective way to remind him of who was really in charge around here. The cage was just incidental. Minho chuckled into his shoulder. “I know,” he purred sympathetically. “I’m a bastard, huh?”

He wriggled behind Jisung, rustled against the bed, and then there was no longer any barrier between them. The bare, dripping head of Minho’s cock was just inches away from Jisung’s ass, and he was rocking his hips like he was going to slide right in. “I told you this wasn’t about making me come,” he said. “That’s just a bonus. Now come on, let me hear you.”

His hand was back on Jisung’s cock, the very tips of his fingers grazing the crown through the bars. It felt so good, that tiny bit of friction, that Jisung honestly wondered if he could come soft. And then he started thinking about what Minho would do to him if he came without permission again. His dick made its most valiant effort yet to throw off the cage, and the pain caused something deep within Jisung to start to fray.

 _Please_ , he thought, but his throat made no sound.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Minho murmured. He was kissing Jisung’s skin again. “I could keep you tied up like this all day, I’d never get tired of looking at you.”

“Yes, you would, dummy.” Jisung replied, mostly joking, but also not. He knew that if he argued, Minho would correct him, and, sue him, he was a glutton for punishment.

Not disappointing him, Minho’s teeth grazed the top of his shoulder. “Don’t tell me what I would and wouldn’t do, baby boy,” he said. “That’s not your job, is it?”

Jisung shook his head. Minho bit down a little harder.

“Say it,” he insisted. “Say that that isn’t your job.”

“That’s not my job,” Jisung repeated breathlessly.

“Your job is to do what I tell you, when I tell you,” Minho reminded him. “And not—” he grabbed Jisung’s dick suddenly— “a minute before I say so. Right?”

Jisung nodded. Minho bit down once more, unrelenting. _Please_ , Jisung thought again, and this time his mouth half-formed the word, twisting it into a pathetic whine.

“Say it back to me,” Minho ordered him. “Tell me.”

Jisung did, repeating Minho’s admonishment almost word-for-word. While he talked, Minho shuffled around behind him, and by the time he was done speaking, a small amount of slick had made its way between Jisung’s thighs.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” Jisung added before he could stop himself.

“Do you want me to?” was the reply, followed by Minho’s tongue to the back of his ear.

Jisung writhed against him, the lock rattling again. “Always,” he huffed.

“Then you know what to do,” Minho reminded him. He rutted against Jisung’s back, the tip of his cock slipping in and out of the back of Jisung’s thighs. Jisung wanted him so badly, and if he was going to get him, he had to submit, and now.

“Oh, fuck it,” he said at last. “You win, you win. Jesus Christ, Hyung.”

“Not good enough,” Minho ground out, but his cock slid fully between Jisung’s legs, colliding with his constricted balls and drawing another cry from Jisung’s throat.

“Please,” Jisung whined through gritted teeth, “Please please please, I need it so bad”

Minho’s breathing was ragged, like he was right on the edge, but he still managed to say, “Please what?”

“Please Sir, Hyung, _Minho_ , ” Jisung begged. His voice broke, but it didn’t matter. “Let me out, I want to touch you. I want to come, I’ve been so good, such a good boy for you, please, please let me. Please?”

Minho shuddered, his breath hot like summer wind on the back of Jisung’s neck, and he fucked Jisung’s thighs harder, faster. A moment later, he came— the hand that was grasping Jisung’s hip tightening to the point of pain. Jisung bore it helplessly, unable to move while Minho’s cock spurted between his legs, as he panted and moaned and shook behind him.

Minho’s hips rocked a moment longer, nudging Jisung’s sensitive balls, while his mouth caressed the nape of Jisung’s neck, and then he sagged down, completely spent. The air in their bedroom was thick, the scent so sickly-sweet Jisung could taste it. He licked his lips, desperate for even a small part of Minho’s pleasure. They stayed like this for some time — Jisung wasn’t sure how long — until Minho breathed in and rubbed his side.

“Oh, baby, you’re so good for me, such a good boy,” he sighed. Jisung smiled, but he squirmed, too, and Minho noticed. “Okay, one sec.”

His hand slid up to the ropes on Jisung’s right wrist and undid them easily. Then he kissed Jisung’s cheek and knelt up to get the other side. He gently pulled Jisung’s hands down and squeezed them with his own.

“Cold?” he asked.

Jisung shook his head. “Not too bad.”

“Good.” Minho got out of bed, taking his pyjama pants with him. “I’ll be right back.”

 _To let you out_ , Jisung’s head helpfully filled in, even though Minho hadn’t said that.

He smiled and nodded. The good part was about to come; the relief from finally getting the cage off was all he could think about. He remembered last time, how quickly he got hard, how fast the orgasm took him, and how well he slept in Minho’s arms afterwards.

Jisung listened to Minho walk away, his bare feet quiet on the hardwood floors. He heard the distinctive creak of the bathroom door, followed by the rush of running water. He waited, shifting against the mattress, grimacing at the sticky pull between his legs, while Minho rummaged in the bathroom and kitchen, presumably getting himself tidied up, and fishing the key out of the silverware drawer.

When Minho returned a few minutes later, he was wearing his pyjama pants and carrying a washcloth. It was lukewarm against Jisung’s skin when he wiped him down, but Jisung hissed nonetheless; he was so keyed up that even the lightest touch felt like fire.

Minho looked up. They shared a smile, and Minho dropped a light kiss on his lips that left Jisung wanting.

“So good for me,” Minho said again, getting off the bed and going to the hamper to deposit the cloth. Then he opened the dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of Jisung’s sweatpants.

“For when you need them,” he explained, setting them on the chair in the corner of their room.

“Okay..?” Jisung said, confused but agreeable.

Minho climbed into bed, tugging Jisung into his arms immediately. Minho pulled the blankets up to cover them both, and Jisung tried to relax with his head on Minho’s chest. But the cock cage was like a rock jammed between them. He wriggled this way and that, but he just couldn’t get comfortable.

Finally, he pulled away. He hesitated, waiting for what was supposed to happen next, but Minho was just watching him with heavily-lidded eyes, silent and smiling slightly.

Why wasn’t Minho letting him out? Did he want Jisung to beg some more?

Feeling mildly annoyed, Jisung exhaled through his nose and rolled over. At once, Minho spooned up behind him, almost exactly how they were when he came, except that Jisung’s hands were free now. He rubbed and kissed Minho’s forearms, which were wrapped around his chest, and Minho hummed into his neck.

“Got you all worked up, haven’t I?” he grinned, his breath hot against the younger boys neck.

Jisung shivered, and his dick twitched limply in its cage. “Yeah,” he admitted, and waited. And waited. And waited.

After a long, sleepy minute, Minho asked, “You want out?”

“Duh,” Jisung rolled his eyes. “Please,” he added quickly, just to prove he’d learned his lesson.

Minho hummed again and shifted behind him — reaching, Jisung thought, for the key that he’d surely left on the nightstand, even though Jisung didn’t see him bring it in. But Minho just turned the light off, and snuggled up into Jisung’s back. “Then you shouldn’t have come,” he said.

A completely different chill ran through Jisung. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach, the familiar sense that he wasn’t talking to his boyfriend anymore; he was talking to his _Dom_ , and he wasn’t going to win this.

“But—”

“I told you, this is a punishment. It’s not supposed to be good,” Minho cut him off. His voice was blurry with fatigue, but still it brooked no argument. He kissed Jisung’s neck again. “You can think about that till morning. Goodnight, baby.”

And with that, he fell asleep, leaving Jisung with nothing to do but keep waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments r always appreciated! :D


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